


and i feel life for the very first time (love in my arms, and the sun in my eyes)

by Ymae



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of terminal illness, Post-Finale, mentions of PTSD related symptoms, mentions of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19291681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ymae/pseuds/Ymae
Summary: Cosima and Delphine are traveling the world together, curing Cosima's sisters.A scare makes them realize that maybe they have some things to work through yet.





	and i feel life for the very first time (love in my arms, and the sun in my eyes)

Delphine leans her head on Cosima’s shoulder; she’s graciously given up the seat by the window, and now they’re both pressed against each other, admiring the view.

“The sunset is beautiful from up here.”

“Wir sind im Begriff zu landen. Bitte schnallen Sie sich an. We are about to land. Please fasten your seat belt,” the stewardess announces in German, then in bad English.

“Have you ever been to Austria?” Cosima asks, turning to her girlfriend.

“Once, I got on a plane in Vienna. But that was an hour at the airport. So, no. Not yet.” Delphine smiles. The air conditioning is cold, and Cosima is snuggled up in cashmere, her dreads in a loose bun, familiar, colorful patterns all over her skirt. She seems relaxed; the lines around her eyes crinkle, and there’s that spark of mischief in her eyes.

Cosima hadn’t been much of a traveler before, too busy with her studies and then, well, _everything_ , but she seems to thrive. And it’s the same for Delphine. At least now, when her girlfriend is alive and well, when she is happy, when _they_ are happy. She enjoys getting to meet Cosima’s clones more than she had thought, and even though she knows Cosima gets a little jealous—way more Leda clones seem to be into women than the papers had said, or at the very least they’re into Delphine—healing all those people is a task they’re more than happy to be doing. 

The plane lands. They have to wait before getting off, packing their things, the French crossword puzzle Delphine had been doing, Cosima’s books, but soon they’re standing at the stairs leading down to the bus. 

That’s when Delphine hears it; a sound her ears had become accustomed to a long time ago. Cosima is coughing.

When she turns around, her girlfriend smiles at her. She must have imagined it.

_Plus jamais,_ Delphine thinks.  _Never again._

 

* * *

 

In comparison to most North American cities, Vienna is small. Still, it’s a beautiful city; a bit more like Paris than Minnesota is. Delphine insists on visiting all the sights—if they’re going to be in Europe, Cosima has to be educated on the culture—and seeing as their next patient’s appointment is tomorrow morning, they have more than enough time. 

They’re leaning into each other, the Ferris Wheel going impossibly slow,  when she hears it again. Cosima is coughing. 

Immediately, Delphine turns  to face her girlfriend. Cosima’s staring out the window, but the tenseness of the hand clutching Delphine’s betrays her. 

“Chérie,” Delphine says, lifting her fingers to Cosima’s hair, “did you just—”

“I just choked on a piece of bread,” Cosima answers quickly. “Not blood, okay? I’ve already taken the whole cure. This is working.”

Delphine doesn’t mention that they  hadn’t had any bread. She’s just glad Cosima knows to be cautious. Her quick answer tells her that she’s still on edge, too. 

That, and Cosima’s face buried in Delphine’s curls, her lips pressing a kiss into her hair, the tremble just barely noticeable.

 

* * *

 

Janika Zingler had been from Salzburg; lived in her small apartment with her niece. Murdered by Helena in her sleep.

Delphine tries not to think about them. The clones fallen victim to a religious fanatic’s personal crusade, the ones involved in Helsinki, those few who died in actual accidents. And she really tries very hard not to think about those who’d succumbed to the illness, especially after it had been on the forefront of her mind for so long.

She can’t go back and cure Cosima’s deceased sisters, but she can protect them now. And Cosima isn’t one of them. It’s selfish, but every day, Delphine is thankful that Cosima isn’t one of them.

But there are two Austrian clones, and Sonja Klingelmaier seems more than alive when she strolls into the room. A cute pixie cut, jeans and a band t-shirt, earrings formed from pieces of a computer motherboard making jingling sounds.  Delphine had learned just enough German in Frankfurt to catch her  chatting about her fiancée and baby daughter, and once again, she wonders how many of the Leda clones are queer. 

At least Sonja doesn’t flirt with her, which Delphine imagines is a welcome change for Cosima, who’s leaning outside of the door as always, listening in. It’s a little bit risky putting her so close to her oblivious sisters, but Delphine gets that she wants to be a part of it all as much as possible. After all, the cure is their project; Delphine may have begun it before Cosima had even known to search for it, and Cosima may have finished it while Delphine was believed to be dead, but the cure is their success, their reward, and it’s only fitting they be together when it’s injected into Cosima’s sisters.

Sonja is out the door  a short moment later, and when Delphine throws a look out of the window, she sees her taking over a stroller from a beautiful, tall woman. 

She will never get enough of seeing Cosima’s sisters doing well. Just as she will never get enough of Cosima’s smile as she steps from her hiding place and greets her with a kiss. 

This time, though, there’s the cough. When Delphine subtly checks Cosima’s hands, she can’t see any blood, but she can’t help the fear closing up her throat, either.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t get better from then on.

They catch the flight to Berlin the next day, and even though Cosima insists she’s feeling fine, she’s a little bit dizzy when they arrive at their hotel. She coughs almost through the entire night, with Delphine clinging to her tightly as  neither of them gives voice to the  fear paralyzing their hearts. 

 

* * *

 

It’s so much easier finding a doctor in Germany than in the States.

Cosima protests, of course, for good measure, but Delphine doesn’t trust her  own hands to be still enough to do any kind of examination. Their next patient is on holiday for another three days, which they’d planned to spend exploring Berlin. 

Cosima’s a bit dizzy as they enter the metro station, and pretends not to notice Delphine obsessively checking her hands for blood, her lungs for that little bubbling sound they used to do when—when—

A tear slips out of Delphine’s eye just as she’s about to finish that thought, and Cosima goes up on the tips of her toes to silently kiss it away.  In the metro, Delphine buries herself in her much smaller girlfriend, closing her eyes and trying not to break down into tears right there and then. 

 

* * *

 

The doctor addresses them in German, and in her confusion, Delphine replies in French.  When Cosima tries to calm her down in perfect American English, the poor woman seems beyond confused. 

“Meine… girlfriend is sick,” Delphine stutters, too upset to speak English, let alone try out her imperfect German. Besides, there is no distinction between the word ‘friend’ and ‘girlfriend’ in German, and suddenly Delphine wants things to be so clear, for her _girlfriend_ to be _healthy_ and for _everything_ to be _okay._

The doctor clearly doesn’t understand their distress, but she lets Delphine hold Cosima’s hand through the examinations, and that’s  good enough for her. 

“Your girlfriend has a cold,” the doctor informs them after barely ten minutes. Delphine gets angry beyond her own comprehension, demands blood work be done and a proper examination of Cosima’s lungs, threatens to put the woman six foot under in a mixture of French and English. Cosima tries to get her to calm down, and only when Delphine sees the tremble of her lips, she backs down. “Je suis désolée,” she murmurs, “Es tut mir leid.” 

Berlin is a solid, stunning city, but even if Cosima wasn’t coughing, Delphine would be on edge. Germany reminds her too much of her time in Frankfurt. She’d known Cosima was wasting away then, dying without her by her side. It had been one of the most horrible times in her life, when she’d seriously considered,  for the first time since boarding school, if it would be better not to live at all. 

Knowing  now  how close Cosima had actually been to death  makes Delphine burst out in actual tears, probably scaring the  poor  doctor even more. 

What’s worse is  how the worry in Cosima’s eyes shifts away from herself, to Delphine. 

_I came back for you._

_It was so easy I could’ve just slipped away._

 

* * *

 

“I’m so sorry, Cosima, ma chérie.” Delphine sits, sunken into herself, on the white bed sheets in their hotel room. There are still sobs bubbling in her throat when she looks at Cosima, her life, her love. “I—” her voice breaks, she chokes on her own tears. _Like Cosima choked on her blood. Like how she could’ve slipped away in her sleep._

_Like she still might._

“I get it, honey,” Cosima answers, the nickname slipping from her lips. Cosima usually doesn’t do nicknames; they sometimes escape her when she’s tired, but mostly, she just says _Delphine_ with all the affection in the world.

Tired. Yes, Cosima seems tired.

“Sit,” Delphine demands, and Cosima sits next to her on the bed, an automatic motion.

Just as Delphine opens her mouth to speak, her girlfriend says, “So, you wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“You know,” Delphine replies quietly.

“We still need to talk… more about things. In general.” Cosima turns away to cough, and they both flinch.

“I could’ve lost you,” Delphine says with a helpless shrug. “I was gone two times, and both times I was afraid every second that I had already lost you. Since you first told me you were sick, since I first loved you, a part of me was always… scared for you. You know now that everything I’ve done has been to protect you. I can’t… Cosima, I can’t go back to that. I want to be happy now. I want to make you happy. Not hurt you trying to keep you alive.”

Cosima makes a choked sound, and at first, Delphine thinks it’s her trying to suppress a cough, but when she turns to face Delphine, tears are running down her cheeks freely.

She’s shaking. She’s trembling all over, hiccuping as sobs fall from her lips like broken glass.

Delphine’s face twists, and she slings her arms around Cosima’s shoulders, draws her close to her.

“It hurts so much, Delphine,” Cosima murmurs into her shoulder as her tears wet Delphine’s shirt. “Not the coughing, that’s nothing like before. The”—she coughs—“the memory. I was sick for so long it burned into my bones. It’s, like, muscle memory. I can’t explain it, but sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and I can’t breathe. I just can’t breathe. And I _know_ there isn’t any blood left in my lungs but it feels like they’re so full of it I’m going to _drown._ ”

“Shh, shh, chérie,” Delphine whispers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m better now.” Cosima’s fingers are grabbing fistfuls of Delphine’s shirt so her stomach is exposed, and Delphine isn’t sure how aware she is that she’s drawing gentle circles over the scar on Delphine’s abdomen. “I’m not supposed to feel like I’m dying, or to hear the bullet they shot Kendall with, or the one they put into Yannis. I’m not supposed to… Sarah’s been through hell. Helena, too. I mean, I was mostly just in front of a microscope, the geek monkey on Skype.”

“Cosima, my god.” Delphine gently pulls the fabric out of Cosima’s hands, pulls her even closer to her with one arm and stills her hands with the other. Trying to make her understand. “Sometimes I still wake up, afraid you’ve stopped breathing beside me. Sometimes I still recall that moment, facing the gun.”

“You were _shot,_ Delphine!” Cosima exclaims. “I just watched other people get shot. And not nearly as many as Sarah.”

“Suffering isn’t comparable,” Delphine insists. “Trauma isn’t. You should have told me.”

“You, too.” Cosima coughs. “I mean, dude, these are wise words, but you haven’t been an open book about the stuff you’ve been through, either.”

Delphine sighs.

Cosima grows very still. “I guess we still have a few things to work through.”

“We do.” Delphine presses a kiss to her girlfriend’s hair. She takes her dreads, twisting one around her finger. “But you have a cold, oui? Let’s go to bed.”

Cosima grins.

“To _sleep_ _._ ”

“Oh, I know. Tonight.”

“Until you get better, silly.” Delphine sighs, secretly marveling at the sight of her girlfriend’s sparkling eyes.

 

* * *

 

“That doctor’s face when I started talking English was priceless, though,” Cosima recalls as they’re lying next to each other in the soft sheets. She giggles. It’s accompanied by a cough, and then a sneeze.

“Bless you,” Delphine says, her face loosening with relief.

“I have a cold,” Cosima whispers, as though to reassure herself, and Delphine snuggles closer wordlessly.

She’s really okay; they’re really doing this, building a life together, traveling the world side by side.

“Je t’aime, Cosima.”

“And I love you, too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This got shorter than I wanted it to, but I really needed to get it out of my system - so if you read it, I'd love to know what you think.  
> Title is from "Technicolor Beat" by Oh Wonder.  
> (Please note that I'm just beginning to learn French, so any mistakes kindly point out to me. German is my mother tongue though, so that should be fine.)


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